It had struck Hestia as deeply unfair; though one afternoon, when riding in Hyde Park with Alex, she had caught sight of her cousin, seen the drawn look upon his face, and decided that perhaps enough suffering had been felt by all. There was no need to pour salt onto what was clearly, for her cousin, a painful, festering wound.
Her father's remains had been removed from the pauper's grave outside Truro and re-interred in the small graveyard, beside the church near Rose Cottage.
The headstone simply read; "Here Lies David Stockbow and his beloved wife Georgina". It was apt, Hestia thought, for she knew that death had not ended her parents' love for each other. Life might end, but love does not, she had thought as she had stolen a glance at Alex, who stood by her side.
Her husband was, to her at least, a complete revelation. Gone forever was the forbidding Marquess, who had petrified her in Montagu House, replaced by a man of such honest integrity, that she often could not believe he was hers.
And he was hers; for after they had returned from St Jarvis, and finally taken their honeymoon in Penzance, Alex had set about making her legally his wife, in every way possible.
"You are blushing, wife dear," her husband said, as he strode into the dining room, fresh from washing after his morning's ride. Alex, Hestia had soon discovered, could not walk anywhere like a normal person, he strode --for he was always busy, bustling and full of energy.
"I am not blushing, husband dearest," she replied mildly, taking a sip of her tea and placing the paper upon the table, "I believe your eyes are finally giving out. It is only to be expected for a man of such advanced years as yourself..."
She gave a shriek of glee, as her husband lifted her from her seat, by her waist.
"If my eyes are giving out, then you shall have to sit close enough for me to see you," he whispered wolfishly, sitting down and pulling her with him, so that she was perched in his lap.
"Whatever will the servants say?" Hestia mused aloud, before her husband brought his lips crashing down on hers.
"I'm sure they're already gossiping about all the time we spend in our bed-chamber," Alex snorted, as their kiss ended, "They may add kissing in the dining room, to their whispers for all I care, for I shall kiss you as I feel, m'dear."
His proclamation caused a huge smile to spread over Hestia's face; she was still delightfully enchanted by the idea that this man loved her enough that he would risk earning a reputation as the most unfashionable sort of thing: a husband in love.
"Tell me," she asked, twining her fingers into his hair. "How goes your work with Pierre?"
Pierre Dubois had been so overjoyed at the return of the missing stone, that he had easily confessed to Alex why he had not told him about his trip to Truro. It seemed that Mr Dubois had attempted to hire thugs to help him scare Hestia's father into revealing the stone's whereabouts, but the thugs had thought him a rather easy mark. They had taken the money he had offered, then proceeded to steal the rest of his valuables, leaving him in a ditch without a penny to his name.
It had all been rather humiliating for the proud Frenchman, though he had declared to Hestia that humiliation was what he had deserved, for attempting to hire them in the first place.
"It's all going rather well, actually," Alex confided, his handsome face smiling happily. "One side of the steele actually contained text written in Latin, which has revealed to us a sort of code. Latin words that appear more than once, correspond with symbols that appear the same amount of times. It's all terribly exciting."
"Terribly," Hestia agreed, stifling a grin. That her husband was so dedicated to his work, was charming --though not so charming that she could pretend for long that she found it interesting.
"Tell me," she continued, "When do you expect to be finished?"
"All going well," Alex replied, "We hope to be finished in half a year's time."
"That gives us plenty of time then," Hestia said, with a mysterious grin.
"Plenty of time for what?"
For a man who loved to solve puzzles, he looked terribly confused. Hestia took her husband's hand and placed it on her stomach, which was still flat as ever.
"Plenty of time to prepare, for whoever is growing in here," she whispered, looking at him a little uncertainly. Would he be as happy as she was, at the news? She did not know if she could bear him being indifferent to the tiny life that was growing within.
"You mean?"
Alex's face lit up, before a frown of worry creased his brow.
"You'll have to rest up," he said pompously, assuming the high-handed air of a Marquess. "No more walks with Henry. No more gallivanting through the park. No more..."
"Afternoons in bed together?" Hestia asked innocently, her eyebrows raised.
Realising he had been checkmated, Alex gave her a rueful smile.
"Was I being bossy?" he asked, his eyes apologetic.
"Only a little," Hestia laughed, "Though I was being stubborn. You're right, I will have to rest easy for a few months."
"Say that again," her husband deadpanned.
"Say what?"
"That I am right. It is the most wonderful thing I have ever heard you say --after I love you, of course."
Alex grabbed her hands, which were making to poke him indignantly in the chest, and covered them with his own.
"Don't say it again," he decided aloud, "Say the other thing, if you will?"
"I love you," Hestia whispered, her heart bursting with pure joy. Love, the thing that she had always feared would break her, had made her whole instead.
The Captain of Betrayal
The Captain of Betrayal
Reluctant Regency Brides Book 4
Once bitten, twice shy...
At the age of eight and twenty, Polly Jenkins has happily resigned herself to the life of a spinster. Many years ago, a young man broke her heart, and she has guarded it fiercely ever since. Polly's life, on the coast of Cornwall, is one of peaceful happiness--until, that is, Captain James Black arrives at her door. The young man she once knew is gone, replaced by a dashing Captain--one who is determined to marry her, and who won't take no for an answer...
Captain James Black had lived a life most men would envy as a decorated war hero with wealth and charm at his disposal. Despite all this, the illegitimate son of the Earl of Ludlow, was missing one thing; Polly Jenkins. Many years ago he betrayed her terribly and now that he had found her again, James was determined to put things right and to put a ring on Polly's finger. True, his intended bride seemed more than a little reluctant, but Captain Black was more than prepared to go to battle for her heart.
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The Marquess of Temptation Page 13
